


The Rich & The Sassy (Septiplier AU Fanfiction)

by VintageBandomTrash



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: AU, Drinking, Jack is a Barista, Jack just wants to lick stuff, M/M, Mark won't let him lick stuff, Markiplier - Freeform, RIP my dignity, Septiplier - Freeform, Sorry Jack, YouTube, Youtube AU, a lot of kissing probably, jack is not jacksepticeye here, jacksepticeye - Freeform, mark makes a booty call, mental health, sorry girlfriends of youtubers, sorry mark, stupid authors notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16095302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintageBandomTrash/pseuds/VintageBandomTrash
Summary: Jack is a barista at a local coffee shop who has never heard of Markiplier, and couldn't care less about the man. Mark wants something pretty to look at.





	1. The Late Shift

"Look," the stranger sighed, "the seat isn't taken, but i kind of need the entire table." To emphasize his point he gestured to all the notebooks covering the surface, his laptop perched shakily on top.

Jack flushed, having had to pep talk himself to ask for the last seat left in the crowded coffee house. "Yeah, it's no problem. Sorry to bother you." He conceded, too exhausted to fight. Maybe the weather outside wasn't as gross as it looked. Grabbing his free cup of coffee for his break he headed out back, grimacing when he saw the mist under the streetlight. With autumn sneaking its way in he felt the chill in his bones when the wind passed by, mentally berating himself for not having brought a sweatshirt to work. Thank god they were closing in just a few hours-- all he could think about as he took a step on the cold, wet stoop was putting on some flannels and crawling into bed.

Of course, that's all he wanted to do anymore. Between University and his night gig as a Barista, Jack felt exhausted from the moment he woke up until the moment he went to sleep, a cycle he was beginning to think might never end.

He only managed a few minutes of peace before his coworker popped out the back door, grinning down at him. "Did you really try to sit with Markiplier?" She asked, fishing a cigarette out of her back pocket and lighting it in one fluid movement. "You trying to hook a sugar daddy, or something?"

"What is a Markiplier?" Jack asked. "Is he, like, a singer or somethin'?"

"Do you live under a rock?"

"No, but I sleep like one."

"Okay, correction, are you not on the internet?"

"What spare time do I have?"

His coworker sighed in defeat, frustrated by jack's lack of pop culture knowledge. "He plays games on YouTube."

Jack's interest was piqued, but he wasn't too interested in learning more about the (apparently famous) jerk he had run into. "Is that like Google Video?"

"Okay, I know you're just fucking with me now. He has like six million subscribers."

"And I have thirty-two followers on Instagram, but I would have let him sit with me. Us internet celebrities help each other out."

"When you're famous, you don't have to. But man, I'd be his seat if he needed me to be..." she was cut off by Jack abruptly standing, tossing his empty coffee in the dumpster.

"My break is over. Let me know if he orders anything else so I can spit in the famous man's coffee." He swung the door open and shuffled inside, feet and back aching from the sorry excuse for a rest he had. Only two hours left.

He had only been behind the register for another fifteen minutes before Markiplier showed up at the counter. "Another coffee, please." They locked eyes for a second and Jack could have sworn he felt the beginning of a headache pop up behind his eyes. Glancing around, he hoped to be saved by any of his female coworkers who might be willing to take the order instead, but considering how swamped they were it seemed like he was alone on this one.

"Size?"

"Large."

"Hot or cold?"

"Hot."

"Milk and sugar?"

"Yes."

"Name?"

"Mark."

He nodded towards the card reader and Mark paid for his drink, Jack staring daggers into his forehead. "Having a rough night?" He asked sarcastically when he saw the way the barista was looking at him.

"Ah, no. Legs are just tired. Couldn't grab a proper seat on my fifteen." Jack quipped back. Mark paused and cocked an eyebrow, looking him over. "Well, looks like it's emptying out."

Without another word Jack tossed the marked cup into the line-up, waving the next customer over. With any luck, he'd never have to see this Mark guy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do notes even work on here my god


	2. Eat My Entire Arse

The next day, Jack hopped off the city bus, hauling a thirty pound book bag on his aching shoulders. He felt like he hadn't gotten a moment of sleep the night before, having stayed up an extra two hours hate-watching (and eventually falling asleep to) this Markiplier guys videos. He was completely different online than in person, happy and animated and engaging. No wonder his co-workers had been so smitten.

He didn't look up as he got to work, heading straight to the back to dump his bag and throw on his black apron. But he hadn't even tied it around his waist before his manager interrupted.

"Thank God you're here. Marco called out sick and we're absolutely swamped. I need you to go take care of the drink queue."

"Sure thing." He nodded, repressing the urge to turn around and just go home. Jack stepped out from the back room, met with a line of six cups and just as many people standing around the hand-off point, glaring at him. At the back of the crowd was that Mark guy, but as they met eyes the customer's gaze softened with something Jack could have sworn was apology. Maybe he was just imagining things, though. After all, he had been thinking about Mark all day-- he told himself it was just because he really loved SCP, but if pressed he would concede that, okay, maybe it had a little bit to do with the way he looked... how deep his voice got when he was really into a game... and how everyone else on the internet seemed to want him so badly. He was always down for a bit of competition. Or, rather, six million competitors.

The only issue with all of this was that Jack had never even tried to date anyone before -- much less someone famous. Someone famous who just happened to be a major arse to him the day before. Also, who was to say Mark was even interested? A shameful google search of "Is Markiplier Single" last night had only led to mentions of his past girlfriends, so he was probably imagining things anyway.

Every time he looked up, Mark was staring at him, but would quickly go back to his phone. He made sure to do his drink last, letting the pile-up clear out beforehand. Clearly it made Mark a bit impatient, because he sighed when Jack finally grabbed his cup and sloshed in the boiling hot coffee. A bit spilled out onto his hand and he winced, shaking it off before wiping it off onto his apron. Mark caught his eye again, smirking. "Isn't it, like, your entire job to be more careful than that?" Jack swiped the remains of the coffee on his hand through his hair, using it as a glue to try to keep it out of his eyes. He didn't reply to what was clearly Mark's attempt at a friendly joke, assessing where they stood in the best way he knew how.

Picking up the nearest sharpie he scribbled out "Mark" and in his best, prettiest handwriting, replaced it with "Eat my entire arse". He added the milk and sugar and passed it over the counter with the most annoyed face he could muster, watching Mark's nose wrinkle as he laughed.

"Yeah, I probably deserve that."

Jack couldn't help but crack a smile. "You do. Now take yer fuckin coffee and get out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I figured out the notes but uh  
> Three cheers for sassy!Jack?
> 
> My style is short chapters apparently because I have ADHD and no time for fuckery


	3. I'll Make It Up To You

Mark had left rather quickly after their interaction, and Jack had tried to keep himself distracted for the rest of his shift. It didn't work too well, however -- he kept checking his phone every few minutes, looking at Mark's Twitter and YouTube, trying to see if he had updated. It had become a constant tic, and after a few hours he finally swore himself off his phone, tucking it away in his back pocket. This, of course, lasted all of three minutes before he refreshed Mark's twitter account.

"Stalking him, eh?" Came a voice from behind him. His coworker had been peering over his shoulder, wondering what he had been looking at the past few hours. Jack never was one to live on his phone, after all.

"No," he replied defensively, though his blush gave him away "I'm just trying to figure out what he's all about. If people love him so much, there has to be something to him, right?" Jack had a feeling that he knew exactly what everyone was on about, but he grabbed the half-finished drink in front of him and tried to keep a straight face.

"Well, how about next time he comes in I let him know you want to know more?" She jokingly reached out and poked him in the sides, causing him to jump.

"Can you not? Seriously I just---" She was already gone behind the register, taking the next order. "He's such an arse anyway, I just want to know why people like him." He muttered to himself.

Five minutes til closing, and the shop was empty. Jack leaned against the counter he was wiping up, eyes drifting closed just for a moment. Every muscle ached, and he thought that maybe if he could rest just a moment he could make it home without sleeping on the bus...  
Right as he was finishing that thought, however, the door opened. He stood upright, clearly startled, assuming it was a manager coming in to lock up for the night. Instead, Mark strolled through the door. Jack's heart skipped a beat, but he tried to act casual, moving over to the register.

"Good evening, my name is Jack, what can I get started for you?"

"Well, Jack..." Mark started, not quite meeting his gaze. "I was wondering if you might.. well.. I'm sorry about tonight. And yesterday. And I thought... maybe.. I could make it up to you? If you want."

"Make it up to me...?" Jack cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah. Like. I assume you uh.. don't want coffee, you get enough of that, but what do you do for fun? We could.. I don't know..."

"I like beer."

"Beer it is!" Mark grinned with obvious relief. It made Jack feel like perhaps Mark was more interested than trying to right his wrongs. "You want to do that tonight?"

Feeling anxiety rise up in the pit of his stomach, Jack quickly shook his head. "Ah.. no. I've got a test, you know? Tomorrow. So. I need to study, and sleep..."

"Right, well, that's okay then," Mark nodded, his disappointment palpable. "Maybe another time."

"Tomorrow night? I'm not working, we can.. hang out. Or whatever you had in mind." He had a lot of things in mind, but wasn't quite sure they were on the same page. Jack was met with a smile and an outstretched phone. "Yeah, of course. Give me your number, I'll text you tomorrow."

Jack quickly entered his number and handed the phone back.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really don't like how Mark has been recently as a youtuber but I'm trying to get over it and find empathy and love for him through my own writing please don't @ me


	4. What was the name of this chapter again?

Jack thought he probably did alright on the test.

   It wasn't like he found hotel management to be a particularly rough major, so he probably could have passed it without studying. And he did study! A bit. Definitely a little bit. During the ads on Markiplier's episodes of SCP Containment Breach. But he could handle one not-so-stellar grade in the name of doing a different sort of research.

When his friend Felix texted him to see if he wanted to hang out that night, he had to say no, prompting way too many questions he wasn't sure how to answer.

**_Is it a date? You have a date??? MY_ ** **_JACKYBOY_ ** _**, I'M SO PROUD OF YOU.** _

_It's definitely something. Probably not a date, but something._

**_What are you doing?_ **

_Probably something with beer. That's the only thing he knows I like._

**_How the heck did you manage to get a date with Markiplier?_ **

_As I said, almost definitely not a date. But I have no idea._

**_Can I tell_ ** **_Marzia_ ** _**?** _

_I don't know. Maybe? If you can swear her to secrecy? Can she keep a secret?_

It was nearing 6pm when he finally got his first text from Mark, something he was beginning to think would never come. It was nothing but the name of a bar and an address.

_Time?_

**_10?_ **

_That late?_

_**I've got a video to finish up.** _

_The bus that goes there doesn't run that late, can we do something that I can walk to?_

_**I can pick you up. Text me your address.** _

At least he was a gentleman about it. Jack figured that Mark lived in a nicer part of town, but that bar was in the _nicest_ part of the city. Kardashians nice. Why was he always coming to this side for coffee? Couldn't he hire someone to make his coffee for him at home at this point?

His phone rang in his hand, startling him awake. Jack wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep, but he _was_ three episodes further into the office than he last remembered. Glancing between the clock and Mark's name on his Caller ID he realized it was a few past ten and sprinted downstairs, seeing a nice car in front of his building and Mark waving from inside. Jack opened the passenger's side door and hopped in, trying to act natural and conscious.

"Hey there. Have a good nap?" Mark asked, smirking at Jack.

"What? How did you---" He was cut off by a gesture to the side of his head.

"Your hair is completely flat on one side. And you look like you might be half-dead." Jack reached up and started trying to fluff out his hair, grimacing.

"For the record, it was a _great_ nap. Stellar, really. And I always look half-dead, it's part of my look. Us Irish lads don't like the sun too much."

"Well, it suits you." Mark headed out towards the highway, looking straight ahead.

"How'd the video turn out?"

"I'm not done editing it yet, but it'll probably be fine. I need to get a real editor at this point, I'm getting pretty sick of it. Might just do live streams, but those are risky." Jack nodded, trying to pretend like he knew anything about YouTube. The entire conversation was awkward, Mark stiff as he drove, Jack not sure what to say to the man that was, at that point, a total stranger.

"Well, you'll get it figured out, I'm sure!" He encouraged. "Just keep moving forward. Positive mental attitude."

Mark rolled his eyes, and Jack wasn't sure what that meant. He opted to say nothing.

They rode the rest of the way there in silence, listening to the local NPR station in the background.

 "So why'd you pick this place?" Jack asked when he stepped out of the car, feeling relieved that he wasn't alone with Mark anymore.

"It's pretty much the only bar I know in this city. My ex and I used to come here a lot."

"Jesus, man," Jack laughed, "I'm all for making new memories but that's a bit of a bad omen isn't it?" What a place to bring a new... date? Friend? Mark opened the door for Jack, letting him slide in first.

"Why would it be? It's not like this is a date or anything." Jack had figured it wasn't from the start, but the way Mark said it so flippantly made his stomach drop a little bit.

"That's true," he shrugged "well what was her favorite drink, and where did you two like to sit? We can re-create the entire scene." Jack laughed, and Mark shot him a look, though he could have sworn he saw a bit of a smile to go with it.

"What beer do you like?"

"Do they have any ambers on tap?"

"Yeah, I think so. Go grab us a table, I'll come find you."

Jack ended up sitting at the one free two-top, pulling out his phone to text Felix while he waited.

_Well, he just confirmed it's not a date, so free beer and no pressure?_

_**Oh please. Turn that shit into a date. I believe in you.** _

_I'll pass, but thanks for the encouragement._

Mark placed a beer in front of Jack and sat across from him with a heavy sigh.

"You seem thrilled to be here, Mark."

"No, no, I am." He insisted, forcing a smile. "I'm just not good at this."

"Not good at what?"

"Making friends. Talking to people."

"Do you want me to leave?" Jack asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes," Mark answered honestly "But you shouldn't. This is probably good for me. I haven't been out with anyone since my girlfriend and I broke up."

"No wonder you're such a downer. Jesus, it's like talking to a pile of rocks in a rainstorm. Why did you invite me here anyway?"

"I was an asshole. And I'm really good at thinking I can talk to people, but I'm not really good at doing it, you know?"

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Mark wasn't done yet.

"--and you're nice to look at."

Nearly choking on his beer, Jack's cheeks flushed.

"Come again?"

"You heard me."

And he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM. Get it Mark


	5. I Can't Take You On

It took Jack a good twenty seconds to reply. When he finally did, it wasn't as graceful as he had hoped.

"Well, cheers to that, then." He said, holding up his glass for a second before taking a gulp. 

"I'm sorry, was that.. too forward?" Mark spoke smoothly, not touching his drink.

"No, I uh.. you're fine. You're good." Another sip. Mark had managed to rip every word in the english language out of his brain in one fell swoop. He forced himself to straighten up and put the glass down. "I'm just usually a lot drunker than this when guys come on to me."

"Sorry?" Oh shit, Jack thought. He's insulted him. Good going.

"I've just never tried this sober..." Mark cocked an eyebrow at Jack as he tried to figure out what he meant. "Usually when I'm at a bar and I meet a bloke who thinks I'm handsome I'm drunker and can think of things to say in return instead of just rambling... about... nothing." He clamped his mouth shut and forced a smile at his table mate.

"Well, what would you say if you were drunk?" Mark asked, leaning forward towards him.

"Things that are a very bad idea right now." Jack nodded definitively, leaning away in equal measure to keep their distance. "Because you don't know me, and when blokes I don't know say pretty things to me at a bar they used to take their girlfriends to there's exactly one way that goes, and that's up my arse. Or on the odd night up theirs. And I'm not i-- that's not good it's-- not the way things should go... right... now." 

"You might be reading into things too much." 

"I very well might." 

"You're a very strange man," Mark said, straight-faced. "do you know that?" 

Jack didn't dignify that with an answer, firing off a text to Felix under the table.

_SOS. Can you, like, call and pretend you're my mum and there's an emergency?_

_**Unless he's literally murdering you, no. Enjoy your date.** _

_ITS NOT A DATE AND I NEED YOUR HELP. NOT THE TIME._

**_Enjoy~_ **

_Arse._

Knowing he wasn't going to be bailed out, he turned back to his not-date. "Okay, fine. No, I think I'm reasonable. Especially compared to you. And you seem to have a pretty large ego for someone I didn't know about until two days ago." Jack tried to finish his beer as quick as possible. Mark raised his eyebrows.

"You didn't know about me until two days ago?" He asked. 

"No! I don't have time to watch YouTube all day. But I _have_  spent the past 48 hours trying to figure out who you are, and apparently I haven't gotten that far because I'm so confused by all of this. What do you want from me?" He finally asked, exasperated. "You're rude to me at work, ask me out--er--- _here_ , insult me in the car, tell me this isn't a date when I didn't say it was, tell me I'm nice to look at, and now you're calling me strange for thinking you might be into me? What _are_  you? What species are you, and what do you want?"

"I'm bad at talking to people and good at talking to cameras and I'm not at all interested in dating you _or anyone_ because I can't take you on right now. I'm up to my fucking ears in work, and people who want things from me, and I thought I'd be a little selfish for once and spend an hour or two looking at someone pretty." Mark spat back. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Just let me in on your agenda next time," Jack sighed "so I don't have to watch so much fucking SCP."

"You've been watching my SCP videos?" His tone softened a bit, calming Jack down with it.

"Almost all of them. It seemed like a good place to start. I didn't know what this would be." He gestured between them. "I think you're very pretty as well. You've got this really nice..." he waved his hand in a circle in front of his own head "face thing going on. It's good. I like it. It goes well with your hair thing, and your body thing. All your -- things. They're good together."

Mark laughed. "Are they really? You haven't even seen half my things."

"Ah, but I have. In my dreams last night." He smirked, finishing off his drink. 

"Well, I've heard dreams are nothing but true-to-reality renderings. Completely accurate."

They spent the next two hours chatting about everything-- Jack's schooling and family, Mark's friends and life outside of YouTube, and, at some point during it all (Jack thinks it was somewhere between his third beer and first shot), Mark had reached over and put his hand on Jack's. It didn't process for a long while, and when it did he found himself entirely smitten, giggling like a schoolgirl. He wasn't sure if he was blushing or if his face was hot from drunkenness, but he didn't care. 

"Can I see you again, Mark?" He asked as he looked at their empty glasses.

"Do you really want to?" Mark ran his fingers up and down the underside of Jack's outstretched arm. 

"Yeh. I think I really do." 

"Let me get you home." Jack couldn't help but feel whiplashed by the tone in Mark's voice, and was silent on the way out to the car. Mark kept hold of his hand until he opened the passengers side door for his date, circling around to the driver's side.

"Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" Jack asked tentatively, putting his hand on top of mark's on the stick shift. 

"I shouldn't, I've got to get to work on that video before I go to sleep."

"That's okay." He shrugged and looked out the window, watching the city go by.

When they reached his apartment he climbed out, swinging around to the drivers side window and leaning in. "Have a good night, yeah? Get home safe. Don't work too late." He smiled.

"I'll do my best. Go to bed. I'll text you."

"Will you actually?" Jack asked, not sure what to take away from Mark's behavior that night.

"Goodnight, Jack."

With that Mark drove off, leaving Jack alone and even more confused than when the night had started.

Knowing that it was way too late for Felix to still be up, he fired off one last text to his friend as he practically crawled up the stairs to his apartment.

_Still wasn't a date. I don't understand him. Probably won't hear from him again. Going to bed. Kindly never mention tonight again. xoxo_

He knew Felix would be as likely to respect his wishes as Mark was to text again, and he dreaded both come the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I would love some snacks right now.  
> Once I'm done uploading this I'm getting S N A C K S


	6. Come Over

     Jack woke up late the next day, the sunlight streaming through his curtains as he stretched and yawned. He almost reached out for his phone, but dreaded seeing that Mark hadn't texted, so he chose to simply ignore it. Climbing out of bed he hopped in the shower, letting the steam from the hot water soothe his tense muscles and hangover headache. What had even happened last night? Had he read things entirely wrong?  
  
Mark _had_ held his hand, right?

Tugging a brush through his hair he slumped off to the kitchen, towel still around his waist, promising himself he'd make breakfast (or at least a cup of tea) before he checked his phone. He couldn't let some grumpy YouTuber ruin his day before he had at least finished his toast, right? But his self restraint quickly failed and his heart fluttered at seeing a half-dozen texts, before dropping when every single one was from Felix.

 **_What do you mean it still wasn't a date?  
You know I have to ask, right?   
_ _I want every detail.  
_ _So does Marzia.  
What was it like?   
_** _Is he going to text you?_

Jack bitterly responded, taking angry bites of his toast between texts.

 _Not a date_  
You don't have to ask  
You're not getting any details  
Marzia isn't getting any either  
It was fucking confusing and I hate him  
He said he would but he won't

**_What do you mean he won't?_ **

_Just fuck off about it._

**_Well, maybe he's still asleep._ **

_You're acting like I'm upset he hasn't texted me yet. I honestly don't care._

**_Yes you do. Want me to come over?_ **

_No. I have work anyway. I'll let you know if he ever texts._

**_Fine, but my offer stands for a hangout._ **

The last thing Jack wanted was anyone to constantly remind him of how badly things had apparently gone. Mark had already tweeted so he wasn't still asleep, and Jack figured his best hope was that he might show up to his job today. After all, he _had_   been there pretty often recently, and it's not like Jack was going to text first. He'd rather hang on to the last shred of dignity he had left.

It turned out that he wouldn't see Mark that night at work-- and the conversation between them would remain silent for nearly two weeks before Jack finally heard from him at a bit past 1am on a Friday night.

**_Want to come over tonight?_ **

Jack almost threw his phone in frustration when he saw the text, preemptively angry at himself because he knew he was going to say yes. He had spent the last two weeks enduring the constant letdown of not hearing back, dealing with his friend's jokes, and a barrage of tests and essays that had him staying up hours after his late work shifts just to keep his head above water. And here Mark was, booty texting him two weeks later like nothing had happened between them, and Jack knew there was no way he could say no.

_Maybe. Depends on what's going on._

**_Going on...?_ **

_Tonight. What have you got planned?_

Playing coy, Jack pulled on some tighter jeans and one of his favorite t-shirts, grooming himself with an expert hand.

**_I don't know. Come over and we'll figure something out._ **

Toothbrush still in Jack's mouth he laughed at just how bad Mark was at disguising his booty calls. Was he even trying?  
  
_Sounds thrilling. Give me your address._

After receiving it he texted it to Felix (just in case Mark decided to try out murder tonight) and climbed into his Uber, ignoring the flurry of texts from his friend. He could wait until after Jack got a hand on what he wanted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack deserves a more eloquent booty call than this but we won't get into that right now
> 
> Also why would Jack have mark come get him for their first not-date but he'll take an Uber this time? The answer lies in the mere fact that Jack will pay $$$ to get over there for a booty call.


	7. I Heart Spidey

Jack could have sworn he was going to be in that Uber forever.  
  
It was nearly thirty minutes of him being convinced at every nicer-than-the-last neighborhood that they were passing through had to be Mark’s. He could feel his bank account cowering in response, suddenly aware of just how worn his clothing was. Glancing down he tapped his chucks together, the white rubber brown in response to a half decade of wear, the fabric beginning to tear up the inner sides. Well, he would just have to own it. Mark seemed to be judgmental of a lot, but status clearly wasn’t one of them. At least, he hoped not.  
  
He was startled out of his train of thought by the driver pulling to a stop in front of a long driveway that wound behind a miniature forest of trees. Moving angles he could see the home, but just barely, only one light visible in a bottom-floor window. This couldn’t be it.  
  
_I think I’m here?_  
  
Jack really wasn’t willing to get any closer to the home without an escort, half convinced a security guard would come out of the trees and maul him if he tried. It was another minute before Mark sauntered up the driveway clad in only sweatpants, waving happily to him.  
  
“Welcome! Come on in!” He grinned. Jack cocked an eyebrow at the sight of the shirtless man, mind stuck halfway between thirst and a minor annoyance at Mark’s blatant showing off. Before he could run his mouth, however, the part of his brain that really, really wanted to know how those abs felt shut him up. “How have you been?”  
  
“Busy.” Jack admitted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Semester is winding down, so I’ve got a lot of work to finish.”  
  
“Is that why you were up so late tonight?”  
  
“Erh.. no. I’m always up at this time. But do you always invite people over at this hour?” He countered.  
  
“No,” Mark seemed to be thinking over his words carefully, opening the front door for Jack and allowing him in “but I wanted some company. Is that really a crime?”  
  
Jack took a look around the large foyer, though admittedly he couldn’t see much, the single light in the living room casting shadows on their surroundings. It made him slightly uneasy (Jack never was a huge fan of the dark, if he was being honest) but he did his best to disguise it, letting his host lead the way into the lit room.  “I suppose it’s not, but usually people don’t invite strangers to a dark, quiet home. And usually they have most of their clothes on.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Mark collapsed down onto the large sectional, patting the seat right next to him. “Well, I see you’re still impossible to please. Never change.” He jabbed, a smile tugging at his lips and betraying his tough exterior. Jack sat carefully next to him as the TV was flicked on, careful to make sure their bodies didn’t touch. After Mark had made him feel so delusional last time, he wasn’t going to be the one to make the first move.  
  
Ultimately they settled on watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, Mark seeming almost genuinely insulted that Jack hadn’t seen it yet. In his defense, he wasn’t interested in anything superhero that wasn’t Spider-Man, but the other man didn’t need to know that. After all, Jack would settle for watching anything that kept him here and got him anywhere closer to his overall goal of licking. It had been so long that he didn’t care what he was licking, as long as it was attached to an attractive human being.  
  
After the start of the third episode Mark’s hand found it’s way to Jack’s hair, lightly tugging at the neon green strands, before sliding down his neck to his shoulder. Jack was gently pulled into the man’s side, and he held back a frustrated groan, looking up at him. Their eyes met and Mark lingered, Jack offering a small smile.  
  
“It’s probably super killing the mood to ask, but uh.. is it alright if I kiss you?” Mark asked, and Jack nodded enthusiastically. The kiss only lasted a few seconds but Jack found himself pleased that Mark’s lips were as warm and soft as they appeared, and that not everything about his (date? booty call? internet-famous-man-friend?) was like stone. He just wanted to do it again. And again. But Mark had already looked back at the TV and settled in a little bit more to Jack’s side, the irishman’s head finding the perfect resting spot on the man’s shoulder.  
  
Against his body’s wishes he pushed his blue balls to the back of his mind, and soon found himself beginning to doze to the sound of Mark’s breathing, the TV quietly humming in the backdrop. He could definitely get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially inspired by Marks not-so-coy "I'm TOTALLY just showing off how I'm taking a towel bath and NOT showing off my muscles" shirtless selfie he recently posted from his South Korea trip.
> 
> RIP Jack's dreams of licking
> 
>  
> 
> PS bless u all for the kind comments it feels so warm and fuzzy to know people are actually reading this story and enjoying it


	8. I am Jack, hear me roar!

When Jack awoke he wasn’t where he expected to be. He remembered getting moved in the middle of the night, but he had thought that he was going to be sharing a bed with Mark, not in the guest bedroom. However, the undecorated space with a generic floral comforter around him told a very different story, and he almost had to applaud the YouTuber for being as careful as he was. The idea of whatever awkwardness might meet him on the other side of the door almost made him stay in bed, but he knew he had to face the most vanilla walk of shame known to man eventually, so he might as well leave himself time to study after.

Jack grabbed his phone from the bedside table (it had been plugged in, how considerate!) and set his jaw, pulling at his clothes to make it at least kind of look like he hadn’t slept in them. Barely two steps out the door he heard a familiar voice echoing down the halls, though it didn’t seem to be talking to him, instead shouting at no one in particular. How on earth could he be recording this early? It was only… noon. Right. The green-haired boy tiptoed down the hall, gently pushing open the door to the recording office and leaned in the doorway. Mark might not have acknowledged him right away, but he could tell that he faltered, the monster catching up with him as he lost his focus. Reaching up to pause the recording he turned to look at Jack with a reserved smile.

“You killed me, you know. I blame you. I was doing GREAT.” He insisted, leaning back in his giant desk chair.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure. That’s your first death in a game ever, right?” In a moment of boldness he walked over behind Mark, snaking his arms around his chest, chin resting on his shoulder. “Sorry I broke your streak.”

Mark’s eyes shut and he gently leaned his head against the Irishman’s, enjoying the gentle contact for a second. “Yeah, well, I guess I can forgive you. Sleep well?” He asked after a pause, breaking the embrace between them and turning his chair around.

“I did,” now Jack was the one that faltered, taking a step back. “sorry I slept so late. It’s been a long week. I can let you get back to work, I’ve got studying to do anyway. Big test tomorrow.” Offering a reassuring smile he shoved his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to reach back out.

“It’s no problem, it was kind of nice having someone else in the house for once. Usually it’s just me. I’ve considered getting a dog or a roommate or something, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet..” he trailed off. Jack could tell by the way the home was decorated that Mark’s ex used to live with him, and wondered if pure loneliness was really why he wanted him over last night.

“Right.. Well, I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” Mark stood to show him to the door, hesitating with his hand on the doorknob. “Hey, um.. Do you want to study here? I’ve only got a little bit of recording left to do and then I’ll just be hanging out, so…” Jack couldn’t help but smile at Mark’s best attempt at a confident face.

“There is absolutely no way I’m going all the way across the city to get my books just to come back here.” He laughed. That would take over an hour at least, and he was still feeling the night’s grogginess in his bones. “But…” One rebellious hand reached out, running his finger tips down the back of Mark’s tricep. “You have my address, so text me when you’re outside and I’ll come let you in.”

The taller man flushed, nodding. “I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

It came as a complete surprise to Jack when Mark leaned down and connected their lips, much stronger than the sheepish peck from last night. Hoping Mark didn’t notice him shiver, he couldn’t help but feel like a stupid fangirl as he melted at the strong fingers teasingly pulling at his hair, legs growing weak beneath him. It took him a second after the kiss ended to find his voice again, mentally fighting against the embarrassing power shift that had just taken place between them. Dumb affirmations repeated through his head like a war chant. _I am smart! I am strong! I am not going to let a man control my life! I control other men’s lives! I am in charge here! Hear me roar!_

But even with all the confidence he tried to summon up, the best he could manage was a “see you soon” as he disappeared down the long driveway, hurrying to call an uber so he could go clean his flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long pause between (short) chapters there. I took a real person vacation to go sit on my family's couch and pet their dogs for a bit. I'll be back to pretty regular updates from this point forward! 
> 
> I have no idea where this story is going but uh. Winging it is the best strategy, right? 
> 
>  
> 
> (Also does anyone else ever write a fic from like 3 different points of view or varying scenarios and you still can't get it quite right? Because this Jelix fic I've been trying to puke out on the side is an absolute trash can. Oh man.)


	9. The King of Romance & Mixed Signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack fails at studying for a test, and succeeds at calling Mark out on his bullshit.

After a quick pick-up and vacuuming (the key, Jack thought, was to make it look naturally clean, not like he put a lot of work in to impress) he grabbed his books and took a seat at the folding card table in the corner he used as a makeshift desk. His marketing class was overwhelming, and looking at his textbook and all his notes spread about he began to regret inviting Mark over. Flirting aside, he didn’t need a distraction right now, which even the quietest handsome guest would pose to him. In an attempt to curb his anxiety as he saw all of the things he had to memorize he went and poured himself a cup of cold, day-old coffee, turning some music on in the background.  _ I can do this _ . He chanted to himself.  _ I can do this _ .

When he set his mind to it, he actually took in the information quite easily. But as soon as he found himself in the proper studying flow a text notification interrupted his train of thought, eliciting a groan. 

_ I’m here _

Jack descended the cold concrete staircase, squinting as he moved past the broken flickering light, and hopping over the stair that he was pretty sure someone had puked on a week prior, too frustrated to be ashamed as he ushered Mark in. “Hey, c’mon up.” 

“How’s it going?” Mark asked politely, dutifully following him up the three flights.

“Oh, you know..” Jack sighed, fighting with his key in the door that led to the hallway, muttered swears tumbling from his mouth until the key finally clicked and the door swung open. “Too much to learn, too little time to learn it.” 

“I’m sorry. Well, this place is.. nice!” Mark offered, taking in the dated red carpeting as Jack unlocked his apartment.    
“Says the man who lives in a literal mansion.” He countered, smirking as his guest turned a bright shade of pink.

“Okay, fine. Maybe ‘charming’ is the word I was looking for. It reminds me of the place I used to live in.” He conceded, taking his shoes off at Jack’s doorway and immediately heading for the couch. “Brought my laptop, figured I could get some work done while you worked. Thanks for inviting me over, it’s nice to get out of the house now and then.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Thanks for not making me trudge back across the city.”

“What kind of.. Uh..” Mark paused, face twisting in amusement at an unspoken joke. “platonic.. male.. acquaintance would I be if I did?” 

“Oh, solid save.” Jack deadpanned as he pulled flashcards out from underneath a stack of notes. “With a title like that, you really know how to get to a boy’s heart.” 

“I’m the king of romance.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence as they both worked, occasionally bonding over shared favorite songs that came on the radio, and Mark being made to quiz Jack on the large stack of flashcards he had made. But it was only after a few hours that his brain began to tire and things were looking even more dismal than when he started studying. Flopping down on the couch next to Mark, he rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder.

“Sometimes I think I should just drop out and disappear into the woods. I can be one of those weirdos that everyone sees once every five years and thinks is bigfoot, you know? Like, totally off the grid.” Mark considered Jack’s new life plan, pursing his lips. 

“You know, that’s not a terrible idea. You’d never have to make coffee again. You could just, like, whittle instead or something. Develop a real talent for building shit out of wood.” Jack hummed, closing his eyes for a moment.    
“I’m terrible at building shit, but I’m sure I’d get better at it. I’d have the rest of my life after all.” Mark shut his laptop where he had been busy checking his analytics and combed his fingers through Jack’s hair.

“I really like your hair color, you know. The green suits you. I’ve been considering going red-- like, actual red. Crimson. Aren’t red and green complementary colors or something? We’d look good together.” He chuckled, fingers taming Jack’s hair from it’s usual crazy look into something presentable. 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“How so?” 

“You’re the king of mixed signals, just stick to your guns for once.” Jack countered through a yawn, before looking up at his guest to survey the damage. He couldn’t read Mark, which kind of bothered him, but it was getting to a point.

“What do you mean, mixed signals? I think I’ve been pretty straightforward.”

“Yes, you have been. Nightly. Only issue is that what you’re straightforward in saying changes every fuckin’ night, and I know it’s great craic to have a guy on the side but, like, pick what you want and let’s move on.”

The room was silent for a long moment as Jack watched Mark’s completely expressionless face, the man’s eyes darting around the room. He had him cornered, and really didn’t have the brainpower left to care. There were so many more important things in his life that this internet guy who couldn’t make up his mind didn’t even make the list of what he cared about right now. Or so he told himself.

“Do you want to go out to dinner? Let me take you out.” Mark finally said, and Jack couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“You don’t have to take me out to dinner, it’s fine. Really. Just, like, cut and run, or whatever.”

“No, I want to. I uh.. It’d be a date, you know? A proper date. If you want that.” He looked at Jack with a resolve smile, clearly proud of himself.

“Yeah, sure.” Jack was cautious to get his hopes up, but figured if all else failed he’d at least get a decent meal out of the deal. His entire food stock right now was microwave pot pies and frozen tater tots, and he wasn’t sure he could stomach another just now. “I’d love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh writing this chapter made me nostalgic because Jack's apartment building is 100% based off the one I lived in in college. Except Jack doesn't have the pleasure of sharing it with two Magic: The Gathering players and one raging alcoholic. Good times.
> 
> Also three cheers for freezer pot pies & tater tots, yeah?
> 
> (And shameless plug, I just uploaded chapters 1+2 of a different Jelix fic so feel free to check that out, but check the tags and content warnings beforehand)


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